What About the Cabbie?
by georgieeporgiee
Summary: Everyone knows the famous story of The Study in Pink. But nobody really knows the story BEHIND it. Jeff Hope, just an ordinary bloke with a wife, 2 kids and drives a Black Cab in London. He was, you could say, a man of Hope. All he wanted was a normal life, like everyone. But like most dreams, it gets disrupted, which leads us to the truth behind his Serial "Suicides".
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

In the beginning, Jeff Hope was just an ordinary bloke who had a wife, two kids and drove a Black Cab in London. He was, you could say, a man of Hope. And that's how he stayed when the Doctor said that his head needed to be MRI'd to find the source of the headaches that tormented him.

"You see Doctor," he began. "I... I've got this... pain... on my r-right side." The Doctor hummed as he typed the symptoms: slurred speech, pain on right half of face into his computer

"And... my eyes... hurt... and it's getting hard to... see." He finished, rubbing his temples. Typing in the symptoms: pain in eyes, deteriorating vision, the Doctor almost immediately knew what the problem was, but without the results from an MRI head scan, he couldn't say for sure. All he could do was advise that Jeff take 2 paracetamol every 5 hours to help ease the pain.

"So what's wr-wrong with me?" Jeff asked, hopeful. The Doctor shifted uneasily.

"Well," he began. "I can't say for certain. There are a lot of possibilities, Mr Hope." Jeff nodded, slowly taking it all on board.

"It might be heart related, an early stroke, PTSD, a burst blood vessel or even a tumour. But without having an MRI scan, we can't know for sure. Do you understand what I'm saying Mr Hope?"

Jeff nodded. He knew exactly what was being said. Stay hopeful, he thought, over and over.

"I've booked you in for an MRI scan at St Bart's for Tuesday 17th at 11am. Is that OK Mr Hope?" Jeff nodded. He wasn't going to refuse.

"Good Luck."

"Thank You," They shook hands and Jeff took his Golfers hat off of the Desk and left.

Getting behind the wheel of his Black Cab, Jeff wiped away some escaped tears and said aloud:

"Stay positive, it's probably nothing. Yeah, it's nothing!" Although he had a slight gut instinct that it wasn't nothing, he chose to ignore it.

He started up the engine of his Car and drove home.

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Jeff arrived home just in time to catch his wife, Caitlin, in one of her foul moods. Unlocking the front door, he found Josh sitting on the stairs with a tear-stained face. He went to talk to him, when Caitlin stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"DONT talk to him!" She yelled, aggressively. "He's got to sit there and THINK about what he has done until Dinner is ready."

Jeff looked at his 10-year-old son with apologetic eyes.

"He doesn't ne-need to th-think Cait. he ne-needs to talk about it so he kn-knows what he's done wro-ong."

Caitlin's face turned Red with rage. If Jeff looked close enough, he would've seen small hints of steam coming out of her ears.

"DONT TELL ME HOW TO PARENT MY CHILDREN! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT BEING A FATHER ANYWAY? YOUR'S RAN OFF AND LEFT YOU! YOU'RE BARELY HOME ANYWAY! WITH YOUR PATHETIC STUTTERING AND SLURRING! YOU'RE A JOKE! AND A USELESS FATHER! I WORK 2 JOBS TO GET ENOUGH MONEY ON TOP OF YOUR POXY TENNER A NIGHT! AND IT STILL ISNT ENOUGH! AND YET I STILL HAVE TIME TO BE HOME FOR MY KIDS; TO MAKE THEM DINNER EACH NIGHT, TO PAY FOR TRIPS, TO PAY FOR LILLY'S BALLET AND JOSH'S FOOTBALL, TO SEE THEIR SCHOOL PLAYS! WHERE ARE YOU? HOW DO YOU HELP? BY COMING HOME LATE EVERY NIGHT AND EARNING NOTHING MORE THAT 60 QUID A WEEK! YOU KNOW WHAT? STUFF IT! I WANT YOU TO GO! GO! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW!"

Lilly had joined Josh on the stairs by now, both sobbing.

"No! Mummy no! Daddy don't leave! She's sorry! Mummy, tell him you're sorry!

"No," she said. She turned around and went back into the kitchen.

Jeff sighed, there was nothing he could do to change her mind now. She went upstairs and packed a suitcase.

Coming back down the stairs, Josh was hugging Lilly, telling her that everything was going to be OK. He opened the front door.

"NO! Please Daddy! Don't go! Mummy is just tired. She didn't mean it! I'll be good forever! Please Daddy! Please Please PLEASE don't go!"

He smiled sadly. "It's OK. I'll only be gone a few days. I'll speak to you soon."

His heart broke as he smiled at his children for the last time, though they didn't know it yet. They looked like a couple of lost puppies. he took his car keys and shut the front door. He threw the suitcase onto the passenger seat and sighed deeply at knowing he had lied to his kids. He turned on the car engine and left the driveway for the last time.

And that's when he had the seizure...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Everything happened so quickly. One minute Jeff was driving to "Sally's Inn", the local B+B, and the next he was fitting; losing the control of the car and slamming harshly into another. Alarms were going off, people were shouting lots of different things.

He couldn't make out very much but "What are you doing?", "Are you a maniac?", "OH MY GOD! He's fitting!" and "Call 999" were said quite often. He felt like not only had he lost control of his car, but he had lost control of his own body. Confused and scared, he tried yelling for help, even though help was already on the way, and then suddenly... everything went blank.

When Jeff next woke up, he wasn't sure what was going on. He had no recollection of what had happened yesterday, nor did he know where he was or how he got there. He tried sitting up to gain a better look at where he was, but he was forced backwards by a tremendously painful banging in his head.

"Mr Hope, are you OK?" he heard an unfamiliar female voice say. "Do you know where you are?" He carefully shook his head. Suddenly, his grip tightened around the material he was lying on as he started moving forwards. Looking around at the dim room around him, he realised that he was in Hospital.

"Good Afternoon Mr Hope," he heard a male say. "I'm glad you have woken." The man speaking was a Doctor. He had blonde curls that were neatly gelled back and had kind, emerald-green eyes. Jeff nodded slowly.

"You're in St Bartholomew's Hospital. Do you remember why?" Jeff shook his head. "Last night you had a seizure while driving, which lead to a car accident. Am I ringing any bells?"

Suddenly, the whole thing came flooding back to him; the feeling of not being able to control his own body, the screaming, everything. The argument with Caitlin, his children crying, the whole thing.

"I re-remember," he said, sadly and slowly.

"Good. Actually Mr Hope, I was hoping to discuss a pressing matter with you. But if you're mot up for talking yet, please tell me and I will come back later." Jeff just wanted to curl up and cry himself to sleep. but because he was so desperate to know what was on the young Doctor's mind, he just nodded his head.

"Talk."

The Doctor nodded to the Female Nurse from earlier on and walked over to his patient notes. The Nurse sighed and walked over to the Bedside Chair, sitting down.

"Mr Hope," she said sadly and concerning. "Mr Hope, we had to give you an emergency MRI scan to identify the source of your seizure. I'm so sorry. But you have an aneurysm that will rupture within the next month or so. You can either go into Hospice and be made as comfortable as possible or you can go home."

If Jeff Hope had any Hope left, it had vanished, for there can't be Hope when all Hope has gone. He was dying, and he had to face it, because he wasnt going to get better. Jeff felt so helpless. He was practically a Dead Man walking. That's basically what having 1 month to live meant, didn't it? He was lucky to be alive, he just hoped that he died sooner rather than later. But what he felt the worst about was having nothing to leave his kids. No money saved in a bank somewhere, no will written. Nothing. Just a pathetic Taxi. He remembered what Caitlin had said; _USELESS FATHER_. He turned away from the Nurse and sobbed silently.

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Many hours had passed when the pathologist walked past. She noticed that the Old Man was crying, but she wasnt able to tell if he was in pain or if he was just sad. However, looking at him made her sad as she remembered how her late Father looked on the day he came home and told them he was dying. The reassurance in his voice but the sadness in his eyes. It made her eyes well up as she sighed in sorrow.

"Sir? Are you OK?" She got no reply. "How about some company?"

Jeff shifted uncomfortably and turned to face her. She had kind, brown eyes and mousey brown hair. She reminded him like Lilly. Jeff nodded willingly. Her eyes gleamed as she sat down on the Bedside Chair the way the Doctor had done previously. Introducing herself as Molly Hooper, she started babbling on about things Jeff was uninterested in. But it was nice to listen to someone talking to him, making him feel less alone.

Molly told him about lots of things. About how Nancy was flirting with Danny, a married man; About how Lucy and Raoul were now 'officially' dating; About the rumour that Renée was slept with Jessica's boyfriend on Sunday WHICH WASN'T TRUE BECAUSE THEY WERE TOGETHER! And about a man. A tall dark stranger in the shadows. Sherlock.

"Weird name..." Jess thought aloud.

"Yeah," Molly gleamed. "But I think it's a lovely one anyway. It's original. He has this perfect curly hair too. And really, really nice eyes. His face is always so serious and concentrated, but his eyes are so sad. And that makes me sad. He takes his job **far **to seriously, but I don't mind. It's sweet."

"What is his job?" Jeff asked, intrigued in this man that she is so obsessed with.

"He's a Private Detective, the best. Sherlock Holmes. Have you heard of him?" Jeff shook his head. "Ah well, he's really lovely and sweet underneath his mask of tension. He doesn't like to show his emotions, and he's very stuck up too. But, you know, I like it in a way." She blushed immensely.

"Narcissist?"

"Oh no!" She defended almost immediately. "Not at all, Just very bottled up!"

"Oh."

They spoke like this for quite a while, or rather Molly spoke and Jeff merely listened. He was so intrigued by how much this mysterious man was coming up in her thoughts and the emotions she felt for him. He remembered how Caitlin used to be like in College, but he didn't want to think about it.

So, to the calming voice of Molly Hooper the pathologist, even though he never found out why she was even in the Wards in the first place, he fell into a soundless, painless and peaceful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next few weeks were hard. Jeff's Doctor had told him he had a minimised life span of only 4 to 5 years left to live, if he was very lucky, before the aneurysm took over his entire face, causing him to go blind, lose control of his speech, then of his muscles and then finally, of his brain.

"Make the most of this time, Mr Hope," The Doctor had advised him. "Do what you've always wanted. Spend more time with loved ones. Make amends. Make a bucket list and achieve as much as you possibly can. Live like every day is your last because every day might be. And please take the pills. They will stop the pain and help you keep some control."

Somehow, through all this, he was able to keep his hope up high and stay slightly happy, although money was tight and the small studio flat he had rented had taken up all the Cab fare's he ever earned. Life was tough & bleak and it didn't look like it was going to get any better. And it really didn't.

Just as life was looking up a bit, a few pounds saved up in a private bank account for the children for after he had died, a letter got posted through his door. Painfully bending down to pick up the letter on his dirty wooden floorboard at the front of his miniature flat, he realised that it was from London Crown Court. As he opened the envelope with a buttering knife, his hands shaking, he released a heart breaking, soul damaging form; Divorce Papers.

Jeff let out a sorrowful sigh as he dropped to the floor in pain, but this kind of pain wasn't from the aneurysm. As he read through the agreements, he sobbed loudly. He wasn't allowed Custody of his Children, only agreed days out by Caitlin. Jeff knew that if he wasn't dying, he would've demanded a Court hearing for joint Custody. But he wasn't going to do that because he **was **dying. This way, his Children would feel less pain when he died. Signing his name on the dotted line and placing it in the Return envelope, he was distraught, but he knew, deep down, that this Divorce was for the best. Not just for him or for Caitlin, but for Lilly and Josh too, somehow.

And that day, Jeff Hope lost all the Hope he ever had.

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The thing about the day that everything changes is that you wake up and it just feels like a normal day. There are no warnings, no big red flashing signs, nothing.

Jeff woke up on a cold, bleak November morning. Groaning as he got up from his hard, lumpy bed, he limped over to his Calender. _November 18__th _it read. A sigh full of anger, sorrow and regret filled the tiny studio flat; the anniversary of his Divorce. He grabbed a rotting Banana harshly from the Kitchen's desktop and sat down. Looking at it in disgust, he threw it on the old Coffee-stained table and opened up his 10-year-old Toshiba Laptop. _NO NEW EMAILS._

"Never are" Jeff complained to nobody, venom in his usually kind voice. He leaned backwards, placing his head lazily onto the headrest, and started at the clock on the wall to his right. It was only 10:30am, a whole day left to go. It was going to be another day where Jeff just sat about in the front of a Black Cab driving useless, unimportant people to their useless, unimportant destinations.

Standing up, he grabbed his Golfer's hat, coat and keys. Looking back at the small 1-room apartment, he opened the door and left.

Getting into his Taxi's Driver seat, he looked sadly at the perfect picture of his Children & Wife and opened up the airbag cupboard. He removed a pair of Scissors and picked up the Picture. Placing the opening of the Scissor's by Caitlin's body, he angrily cut her out of the picture so it was just left as Lilly and Josh. He put the picture back by the window, throwing the part of his wife on the floor. He started up the Car's ignition and popped a couple of his pills into his mouth with a shudder. _Hopefully, today will be a good day, _ Jeff thought. But deep down, he knew it wouldn't be. They never were.

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It didn't happen until his 4th passenger. The time on his Dashboard read _12:09pm. _Forcing a smile on his face, he turned to face the tanned Man in a Black suit.

"Where to?" he asked. The Man caught the gaze of Jeff in the mirror.

"We need to talk," he replied bluntly. Jeff was confused. He didn't know this strange, suited Man and he had never driven him before. So why did they need to talk? Shaking his head to bring him back to reality, Jeff decided that this strangely smart Man was talking to someone on the Phone and so ignored it. He revved the car a bit to continue driving, and then the Man repeated himself.

"Mr Hope, we need to talk." Jeff's face paled slightly as he looked at the suited Man in the Back of the car.

"I'm sorry?" was all he could say. His eyes were filled with fear. The Man in the Suit reached towards the Driver's door locking system and pushed the Lock down. Now that they were both locked in the Car, Jeff's heartbeat rapidly fastened. He was scared. He was petrified. He was frightened. He was terrified. He didn't know what to do. He had never been in a situation even close to this in the past. The Man moved towards Jeff's ear slowly.

"If you want to help your lovely children, Mr Hope, you will drive where I say and stop when I, and only when **I **say you can stop," he said, in a whisper so soft and quiet that Jeff almost didn't hear it. And he wished he hadn't. But he had. Jeff nodded his head, looking at his beautiful Children in his photograph, and started to drive.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jeff drove for hours and when they ended up outside an abandoned Warehouse he was almost 100% certain that they weren't in London any longer.

"Turn off the Car Mr Hope," Suit Man said. Shaking as he nodded his head, Jeff reached for the Keys and turned them in the exhaust.

"Good," said the Man. "And now, you get out." His hand went to the Lock and pulled it back up after being pushed down several hours before hand. The Man opened his passenger door as Jeff struggled to open his Driver's door.

"Follow me," he had said simply as Jeff finally got out the car. Limping as fast as he possibly could to keep up; Jeff did as he was told.

The Warehouse was damp, cold and dark. In the distance, you could hear water dripping onto the hard, concrete floor, Rates & Mice squeaking loudly as they savaged in search for food, the wind slightly howling in the air around them and the whole place just gave Jeff the shivers.

As they came to the heart of the Warehouse, Jeff and the Man in the Suit approached a Chair, a table and a Laptop. The Laptop was very modern. It was more modern than his Toshiba. It had a wireless mouse and a wireless keyboard, but he didn't understand how that was possible. However, that wasn't his main question. His **main **question was _"why is there a Laptop in the middle of a Warehouse which is in the middle of nowhere?" _And then he found out the answer.

"Mr Hope, he wants you to sit down," the Suited Man said. Jeff, although he didn't quite understand who _he _was but too scared to question or argue, just simply obliged.

The Man in the Suit shuffled the Mouse left and right, revealing a 'chat' screen. In the left hand corner was set of 2 videos. One was of Jeff through a webcam, the other box said "**_An Image Is Not Available_**_"_ and the rest of the screen was blank.

Jeff, with no idea what was going on or what he was supposed to do, turned to the Suited Man with questioning eyes. Suddenly, a beep came from the Laptop Screen with a message that read:

_M: Thank You for your assistance Lucas. You may go now_

The Man in the Suit briefly nodded into the Webcam and walked away, leaving Jeff alone with the Laptop and the person behind the Screen.

_M: Just you and I now_.

Jeff was very unsure about what he should say or what he should do. He felt himself go Red and Hot in the heat of the moment, anxiety crawling over his already nervously tense body.

_M: My name is Moriarty, Mr Hope. I have a way to help your children, to protect them._

Jeff's face turned from a nervous Red to an angry Red. Although it had been 3 years since he last properly saw Lilly and Josh, he turned defensive, protective and all over Fatherly over his 10 year-old daughter and 13 year-old son.

"What have you done to my Kids?" he bellowed loudly.

_M: Now Now Mr Hope. I've done nothing. They're Fine. I can keep it that way. I can help._

Jeff's body relaxed when he heard, or rather when he read, that his children were OK. But he was really intrigued by this mysterious "Moriarty" or "M". He didn't **need **any help. His children were fine living without him around. How could this unknown man help where help just wasn't wanted?

"My Kids are fine thank you," he replied matter-of-factly, no emotion in his tone.

_M: Yes, but you are dying._

Jeff felt himself tighten so much that he thought he would become a Statue any second.

_M: I can help you. I can help you get money for them for when you die. Currently, you have £157.50 in a private bank account with Lloyds TSB. I can change that. I can help you._

"H-How can you know that?" Jeff asked. He was the only person who knew about the account. Nobody knew but him because he told nobody. Yet, somehow, this Moriarty did too.

_M: I can change that. I can help you._

Jeff sat and thought about the offer that was on the Table. If this man on the other end of a Computer screen could get him money to help pay for his kids University funds or even just as a backup for after he had died, then maybe it was worth talking about.

"How?"

_M: If you can kill one person without getting caught, I will pay you a total sum of £10,000._

Jeff sat open mouthed. He was dazed by the figure that was in front of him. But Jeff wasn't a Killer. He couldn't cold bloodily **murder **an innocent person. His face fell and paled a bit.

_M: Don't think of it as killing people Mr Hope. You're dying. Billions of people outlive you __**every second. **__You killing one person wouldn't really be killing. Think about it. It would be __**outliving**__ them. Really think about it. A nearly dead man living a day longer than a completely healthy one. Isn't it worth a shot?_

Jeff sat forwards. _A nearly dead man living a day longer than a completely healthy one. _He had a point. It would feel amazing to know that he had outlived a Man who had good health and a whole life left to live.

Crossing his arms and leaning on the table, Jeff looked directly into the camera.

"How?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The room was intimidatingly quiet. Jeff shuffled uneasily in his seat, leaning forward to rest his arms on the desk. He started to wonder if this mysterious man on the other end of the Computer Screen, the Master of Games, was actually real. Maybe he was a Hoax, a Con, a Fraud. But, even though he hadn't a lot of hope left in him, he was hopeful he was. He would do anything to help his children after he was dead and gone. It was the least he could do after lying to them and never returning 3, long years ago.

"Well? How am I going to do these killings then? Or is that something I'm going to have to figure that all out by myself?" He said, tapping his foot impatiently, but trying to sound sarcastic, reassuring himself that it really **was **worth the wait, as this was going to be the thing that would help his children's future for when the time came.

_M_: Tut Tut, Mr Hope. Patience is key, and I am the lock. _

As he was about to question this riddle, he wasn't a fan of them, he heard the unnerving sound of someone walking in expensive shoes in the background. Turning around to greet the man in the shoes, he noticed that he was on the phone. He approached Jeff and the Computer and said goodbye to whoever was on the other line. He placed his phone back in his pocket and turned the computer screen so that 'M' could see him through the WebCam.

"Sir," he said. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need to be going. I have a meeting with another one of your Clients in 15 minutes."

There was a deafening silence throughout the entire Warehouse while both Jeff and ShoesMan waited for 'M' to reply.

_M_: Thank you for this piece of information Lucas. _

The man in the shoes simply nodded, turned the Screen back towards Jeff, whipped out his phone and began to walk away.

Jeff only realised when he pulled up his sleeve to check the time, that he had forgotten to put his watch on this morning when leaving for work.

_M_: I'm sorry Mr Hope. I hope that waiting for a way to earn money for your precious children is interfering with your MiniCab business._

Jeff blushed and felt immense guilt at having been more worried about his Black Cab business than earning money for his children. How could he be so selfish? He looked down at his hands the way a child does when getting yelled at by his Mother or Teacher and shook his head.

_M_: Good. Now, I have quite a few ways to ensure the death of your opponents. Are you still willing to apply, despite my tedious inactivity?_

"No, I'm still willing. What do I do?"

_M_: I have sent you a list of 4 options. You must print them out, and then tell me which one you have chosen so we can help you with your method. _

Jeff nodded his head, clicking accept to the requested print.

"How will I contact you to tell you my chosen method?" Jeff asked. He could almost hear 'M' laughing evilly on the other end of the Internet. He knew it was a stupid question to ask, but considering he didn't have the answer to the question, he felt it was a necessary question to ask.

_M_: No Mr Hope. You will not contact me, I will contact you._

Suddenly, the line went dead. Holding on tightly to his few pieces of paper, Jeff was confused. Maybe there was an interference, or maybe the Mice had pulled out a wire. So many it's and but's were going through Jeff's head. Surely that couldn't be it? He had so much left to ask, so many things left unsaid.

The Man in the Suit returned within seconds of the line disconnecting. He nodded at a few men, who nodded back. They walked over to the desk and lifted it up, walking out with it slowly.

"Come on Mr Hope. I've been instructed to drive you home."

Jeff had been studying his sheets of paper very hard from the minute he got back home to the minute he had decided. On the sheet of Game Plan options, there was one particular choice that got Jeff quite intrigued.

_"Option 3: Neither Pill is poisoned, but on the table, there will be 2 glasses of water. One for Jeff, One for opponent. The opponents water will be poisoned, and when he drinks it, the effect will be death."_

This made Jeff think. How would he ensure that the opponent would drink his/her water? Would he have to force it? Or manipulate it? So many questions were speeding through his head. He would just have to choose it and see.

And literally just the second he had decided he was going to choose Option 3, there was a knock at the door.

Opening it with caution, Jeff was greeted with a man. This man was different from the Man with expensive shoes. This man had lightly tanned skin, gelled back hair, brown eyes and, accompanied by a cheap, second-hand suit, a pair of converse.

"M knows you have chosen Option 3. He would like me to talk to you, on his behalf." Jeff nodded his head quickly, immediately regretting that action as his head started pounding sharply at the edge of his head.

He lead the Tanned Man into his studio flat, not taking him long to get to the Living Room and offering him a seat.

"M wants me to tell you that to get your opponent to take the water..." He paused to listen to a voice at the end of a Bluetooth Ear set that posh business men and women use when buying a coffee during a lunch hour would use. "You have to use manipulation. Trick them into it. Be cunning, Mr Hope. Do as much as your little, damaged brain can do. And remember, Mr Hope, that this Murder will gain you a grand total £10,000. That's all I can tell you. Good Luck Mr Hope."

And then as soon as he entered, the man in Converse got up and left Jeff sitting in his minuscule flat all alone, wondering, thinking, plotting.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Within a few hours, many people had passed through Jeff's little flat. Many Men in different suits, in ties, in leather loafers; except Tanned Converse Man, who seemed to wear a different pair of Converse each time they met. How he managed to change his Shoes between hours of them meeting was quite unfathomable, but Jeff didn't ask. He was too busy being informed on what everything was, how it was to be used, and when it would be best to use it.

On the small Coffee Table that Jeff owned, there were some things. There were 2 bottles containing a pill, 2 bottles of water and a Lighter Gun.

"Mr Hope," a suited man with a Silk Green tie approached him. "It's vital that you pay attention, **close **attention to the information that I am about to tell you. This information could later be your life or your death. Do you understand?" Jeff nodded and followed the Man's finger to the bottled pills.

"These," he began. "As I think you are fully aware, are fakes. Neither pill is poisoned; therefore neither pill can do anything harmful to your body or to your opponents either." Jeff nodded to show his understanding. He knew it was all a trick, he knew quite well.

"Now these," he continued, placing his hands around the bottles of water and placed them in the air. "These are the most important factors in your _'game'_. As you can see, one bottle has a blue lid and one bottle has a green lid. Now this is the **most **important part, and it's not too hard to remember either, so listen carefully. BLUE BOTTLE = GOOD. GREEN BOTTLE = BAD. Got that?" The look that the Green Tie Man was giving Jeff was enough to kill him, if looks could kill that is.

"Got it," Jeff nodded in understanding. He looked at the 'gun' on the table. "What's the lighter for?" he asked. He, again, felt it was a fairly obvious point; the same way he felt when talking to 'M' just the day before.

"Well Done for noticing that it's a fake gun, Mr Hope" Another Man said while Green Tie Man sighed in exasperation. He walked over, giving Green Tie Man a nod to leave. "This lighter decoy gun is to help you to, let's say,_ motivate_ your opponents into doing what you want them to do and to also go where you want them to go." Jeff picked up the decoy and threw it in the air, catching it as it came back down. He quite liked the feel of it. He pulled the trigger, just to test it, and sure enough a small, flickering flame came out the other end.

"OK," Jeff said. "I think I get it." He rubbed his chin, feeling the brittle as he hadn't shaved since Yesterday morning. "Fake pills, lighter gun and water. The bottle that is blue is for my opponents and the green bottle is for me." The Man laughed and shook his head.

"No Mr Hope," he picked up the green bottle. "My friend really didn't explain all too well. Tut Tut Thomas," and he gave Green Tie Man a friendly wink, and he muttered something along the lines of 'Oh shut Up, Locksley.'

"Mr Hope, the green bottle is BAD. You drink this and you're dead. You drink this Mr Hope, and you won't live long enough to see the clock strike Midnight." Jeff's eyes widened in fear and wonder.

"OK, definitely got it this time. Green bottle, BAD. But what is in it exactly?" At that point, a tall man in a grey waistcoat, no tie, gelled back hair and a golden pocket watch approached him. He had a young face, but his eyes were intelligent and old beyond their years.

"This water, Mr Hope," he began. "Is intensely pure Hydrochloric Acid. If the slightest drop touches your tongue, your tongue will burn away." He sat down on one of the Chairs and crossed one leg over the other.

"My name, Mr Hope, is Jim Moriarty. Hiiiii!" He smiled slyly. Pointing to the Chair opposite, he said: "Take a seat. I think it's about time we spoke Face to Face."

"You're 'M'," he said, sitting down slowly. A worried look washed over his face and he turned slightly pale.

"Yeees! Well Done! You're not as dumb as a dying Man tends to be!" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I've been so excited to finally meet you, ever since we 'spoke' yesterday. How about you? Have you wanted to finally meet me too, Jeff? I hope you don't mind me calling you that." Jeff shook his head.

"Good! Good! Well, can't stay for too long, people to kill, crimes to commit. So here's what I want you to do! You're going to get into your cab and wait until you get a text from me. Then you will pick up someone, anyone, and drive them to the location I will tell you. I'll put the address in the text too. You follow?" Jeff nodded, willing his terrified shaking to subside soon. "Good! I hope you have your game plan ready, because you're going to need it tomorrow." Moriarty stood up and brushed himself down,

"But what do I do until then? Do I just sit around waiting for the text?" Jeff stood up and asked him. In comparison, Jeff was rather short next to Moriarty. He felt quite intimidated next to the young Irishman.

"My dear Man, do whatever you want to do. Watch Telly, bake cakes or drive some boring, ordinary people around in your Cab like normal. Just be sure to get someone and kill him, or her, when you get my text, OK?" Moriarty game him that sly smile again and went to leave.

"But how will you text me? Do you even have my phone number?" Jeff called out before he did.

"Oh, I have your number Jeff. Don't you worry about that one bit." He turned and walked out the door, loudly snapping his fingers as he did, all the other Men followed him out once he did, some saying a brief 'Bye' as they did.

When the last Man shut the Apartment door, Jeff leaned back and crossed his arms across his chest. It was just a matter of time now, before some poor, unfortunate, innocent soul got tragically, brutally murdered because of him. How would he deal with the guilt that he was going to feel?

"It's going to get my kids £10,000," Jeff kept telling himself. And he told himself over and over and over again until he was reassured enough to fall asleep.


End file.
